


Minotaur

by Parzaval11235



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: Action/Adventure, Airships, Alternate History, Biopunk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flying, M/M, Prisoner of War, Steampunk, War, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parzaval11235/pseuds/Parzaval11235
Summary: Jaspert Sharp is an airman with a knack for beasties and jumping from the rigging. He is the brother to Deryn/Dylan Sharp, serving on board the ship known as the Minotaur in the British Services during the first world war.The world is divided- Darwinists with fabricated creatures, versus the Clankers, with powerful machinery.But after a terrible storm, Jaspert finds his world spiraling out of control, and begins to question his own allegiance. To the side he was born into, or the side that seems sure to win?





	1. On Land

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on wattpad on one of my side accounts, CoDorks. This was written by a friend of mine and I. I decided to post it on here, hoping it will get some more traffic. 
> 
> Probs not but whatever.

The sky had been clear save for a few cirrus clouds on the far horizon, pink with the sunrise. A light breeze cooled the air and stirred the grass on the ground.

 

Jaspert’s head was ringing with the age-old adage about red skies and warnings. He guessed that it was on Deryn’s mind, too.

 

He wondered if she was as nervous as he was.

Probably not, he assumed. She had always been a load braver than he, and took Da’s word for gospel, and anything else was a load of bollocks. She wouldn’t be worried about any skies.

 

But that wasn’t what he was worried about.

No, he didn’t want the Royal Navy catching his little act, finding out he had signed his  _ sister  _ onto the force. It wouldn’t just be bad for him, but imagine the consequences for Deryn!

 

_ She’ll do fine,  _ he reminded himself, closing his eyes as the tigeresques marched by, pulling a military carriage. It had since passed Deryn and the boys-- _ the other boys,  _ he thought--and he could still see her craning to look at it.

 

But then, the Huxley was revealed, and her mind was clearly on other things.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” one of the boffins asked, elbowing him to attention.

 

Jaspert smiled. The boffin was barely older than he. He elbowed him back. “Can’t give you any credit for it, though,” he said with a wink.

 

The boffin merely chuckled. “S’pose not. The idea of that was long conceived before I.”

 

“True enough.” Jaspert nodded, and then frowned as he saw one skinny, blonde form step up. 

 

“Dammit!” he hissed.

 

“What’s that?” the boffin asked, shooting him another grin. 

 

“That’s my s--my cousin,” he said. “He’s gone up first.”

 

“A brave one, then,” the boffin laughed.

 

Grimacing, Jaspert said, “I suppose.” Internally, he was cursing. Deryn was supposed to keep a low profile if she-- _ he,  _ he corrected himself-- wanted to get onto an airship. Unfortunately, she tended to think with her arse more than her head, and probably wanted to show the boys who’s who.

 

“Your family all in the air?” the boffin inquired.

 

Jaspert sighed, and turned to look at the young man. He looked rather Scottish, to be frank, and that made him like him all the more.

 

“My da,” he said. “Taught me all I know. My cousin, too.” He paused, looked at the boffin’s crooked smile. “What’s your name?” he asked.

 

“Rupert Wood.” The answer was clear and proud. “Serving on the Minotaur. Yourself?”

 

“Jaspert Sharp. Headed off with the Minotaur as well. So’s my cousin.” 

 

Wood stuck out his hand for Jaspert to shake, which he accepted.

 

“Good luck, then,” Wood laughed. “I’ve got stories to tell about her, my friend.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaspert demanded, suddenly feeling panic creep from his fingertips into his throat . Was Deryn’s secret already lost?

 

“Yes,” Wood continued. “The Minotaur--she can be crazy. Largest ship in the British fleet, almost.”

 

Jaspert was going to ask more, but his attention was torn away as he saw the Huxley hurtling into the air, like a paper sack being carried off with the wind.

 

He gasped as he saw Deryn fly towards the sky, but then calmed himself. She’d been in the air plenty of times, after all.

 

He could never stifle that surge of original panic, though.

 

Sometimes, he felt a little bit too much of paternal protection towards his little sister. God knew she needed it, with Da being gone and all….

 

He swallowed as she went up and up, towards the great blue sky. The Huxley glowed purple against the sunrise, its form becoming more and more spectacular the further away it went.

 

“Coxswain Sharp!” 

 

He spun on his heel to face the source of the voice.

 

A short young man of dark complexion approached him, his curly hair sticking out at all sides. He appeared to be of higher rank than Jaspert, so he saluted him briefly.

 

“No need for that,” the man scoffed. “Just call me Hopps--no titles attached, got it?”

 

Jaspert nodded. “Got it.”

“The Minotaur is waiting.”

 

“But my cousin--”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Hopps said, turning around. “Come on.”

 

Wood nudged Jaspert along, passing him a look of well-meaning and sympathy. “Good luck,” he repeated

 

Jaspert smiled. “Thanks, mate.” 

 

And then, he was on his way to the Minotaur.


	2. Midshipman Sharp

ONE WEEK LATER

 

Jaspert could the feel the rope chafing the palm of his glove as he strafed the rigging of the Minotaur, the belt at his waist tugging against his lower back with the rope. He pushed against a lead with his feet, swinging to the side in the open air, the wind sweeping the hair out of his eyes.

 

He felt most alive when he was in the air.

 

It was almost enough to forget about Deryn. 

 

He still wasn’t sure what had happened to her. She could have been home, back in a goddamned corset, or somewhere on another ship.

 

He hadn’t gotten in trouble yet, though, so he had to assume she hadn’t been found out.

 

He released his clip, letting himself swing upwards to a higher point, climbing his way up to the top of the rigging. This was his favorite part. Every one of the other airmen hated it, and watched white-faced as he performed the stunt, but for him, it was the highlight of his day.

 

Once he reached the top he held onto the thick lead rope going across the length of the Minotaur, taking a deep breath as he unspooled the entire length of his rope. Taking the first step was always the hardest.

 

He steadied his nerves as he put both arms out the to the side.

 

And he leapt forward.

 

 

The wind rushed past, and he was thankful for his goggles as he free-fell through the sky. Several of the other shipboys were watching in admiration and terror as he sped past them, nothing but air slowing his fall.

 

The speed and adrenaline overpowered the fear as he spun around, stretching his hand out to grab the rope, holding a strip of leather wrapped tightly around his palm so his glove wouldn’t catch fire, and began to slow his descent. He spiraled once or twice as his velocity lessened, reaching the end of the rope with a jerk and rebound at least half a metre upward.

 

 

He hung there, upside down, swinging from the rope. He felt the blood rushing to his head, pounding in his ears as he swayed slightly, looking at the ship from below and chuckling at the other boys. One of them had tried to do what he did the other day, but it hadn’t ended well.

 

Not to say that he had died, but it hadn’t been pretty. He’d been sent home with a doctor’s notice. And three broken ribs.

 

Jaspert made his way back up his rope, his arms straining less than they had when he first arrived on board. It was amazing how being a ship’s coxswain changed your body in just days.

 

Once he was back inside the ship, he stashed the rigging gear in a storage closet with the other pairs, heading to the mess for their evening meal.

 

A greedy little messenger lizard popped its head out from one of the ports in the wall, flickering its tongue at him.

 

“Don’t have anything for you right now, mate,” Jaspert sighed, lifting his arms over his head into a stretch as he walked.

 

Dejected, the lizard ducked back into the wall to perform its duty.

 

The sounds of the mess rippled out from the insides of the beast, carried like lifeblood to Jaspert’s ears. He smiled at the sound.

 

His heart skipped a beat, anyway, though, when his thoughts involuntarily turned to Deryn.

 

Is she okay? he wondered.

 

He was still waiting for a message, a letter--anything.

 

The mess opened up in front of him, a sprawling of people and tables and smells and spices. People of all backgrounds came to the Minotaur, and nowhere was that clearer than at meals.

 

Unlike other ships, there wasn’t just the greasy slop of airfare that he was used to. There were spices, vegetables grown on-ship in the gardens, and sometimes even synthesized meat--per the captain’s orders, of course.

 

The legendary and mysterious Captain Sadana had ordered that the ship be served strictly vegetarian fare. Said it was unjust to be eating animals while you’re riding in one. A royal ship of the Allied fleet, at that.

 

Jaspert could see the logic, but his stomach growled at the thought of a fresh hunk of lamb… It was always his favorite delicacy back at home.

 

“Sharp!” 

 

He looked around the room to see who was calling for him.

 

It was the boffin, Wood. He stood up from his seat with the others and waved, a wide grin plastered on his face, motioning to an empty seat next to him he had likely reserved just for Jaspert.

 

He rolled his eyes, but began walking over. He and Rupert Wood had become good friends in the past week. It was nice having a brain on his side. It made him feel like he knew the ins and outs of the ship a little better. 

 

It always felt strange when he sat at a table full of boffins, though. The other ship boys would give him odd looks for it.

 

But Jaspert liked to think he was a smart fellow, and tried to keep up in conversation. 

 

He waved again at Rupert, and hurried over to the line so he could get his food and sit. He was tired from the exhilarating experience of rigging, and his stomach was beginning to ache.

 

The crew took turns serving meals, and it happened to be the young boy in the room across from his serving. His name was John, if he remembered correctly. A scraggly fellow--a whole head shorter than he, and a few pale chin hairs sticking out under his jawline. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, but he had to have been to be there at all.

 

“What’s this?” Jaspert asked, pointing at some black-skinned cubes floating around in an orange sauce.

 

“Eggplant,” John answered, grinning at him. “Planted it myself.”

 

“You garden?”

 

“S’what I’m good at,” John replied proudly. “I ‘ave a green thumb, at least the boffins say.”

 

“Good for you.” Jaspert frowned, looking at the goop. “Is it any good?”

 

“Fresh as can be.”

 

“Not helping me, mate,” Jaspert sighed. “I think I’ll pass. Just give me the greens and the, er, ‘meat’.” The small clumps looked like the fruits fed to the fléchette bats before a strafe run. Not the most appealing thing in the world.

 

John shrugged and scooped on a serving of what appeared to be boiled watercress, and then a big hunk of the synthesized protein. 

 

Jaspert thanked him and hurried over to Rupert’s table. 

 

“Thanks for saving me a spot,” he said, immediately cutting into the protein. It was a little rubbery, and took some cutting to get at, but tasted fine.

 

“Any time,” Rupert grinned, taking a bite of the eggplant goop. “Did the boy tell you about this stuff?” he asked. “It’s amazing.”

 

“Not my cuppa,” Jaspert laughed uneasily. “He said he grew it, though.”

 

One of the boffins, the only woman, piped up. “Little John?” she asked. “He’s the best gardener on the ship. I try to keep him in the botany department as often as possible.”

 

“Barking spiders,” Jaspert muttered under his breath. “Suddenly everyone’s growing these weird aubergines,” he said, using the formal term just to irk the silly boffins.

 

“Indeed,” the woman sniffed, going back to her meal.

 

“So,” Rupert said, stage-whispering to Jaspert. “Catch another free-fall?” He always loved to hear about them, but didn’t care for watching. It wasn't agreeable with his stomach to see someone plummet dozens of feet in a second. 

 

Jaspert grinned. “Went even faster today. From the very top, all the way below the deck.”

 

Rupert paled slightly, but his face lit up imagining the excitement. Only a few of the boys actually went on the rigging; the others were usually stationed to the beasties or command positions. 

 

Jaspert would love to be staffed to the beasties. He enjoyed their company, and they seemed to have an affinity for him as well. 

 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Rupert whispered, a grin plastered onto his face as he kicked Jaspert from under the table. 

 

“Don’t make it seem like such a laughing matter,” Jaspert pouted, taking a bite of greens. They might have been watercress; he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he didn’t particularly like them, but Rupert would rag on him if he didn’t eat them.

 

One of the other boffins, an Indian man (for there were many on this particular ship), looked up from his food. His name was Abhi, if Jaspert remembered correctly--which he did.

 

“You know,” he said, a little casually, “that happened just last month.”

 

“What happened?” Rupert asked around a bite of eggplant.

 

“One of the men on the rigging died. A storm hit, and he was bashed against the side of the ship.”

 

Rupert blanched, but Jaspert was unperturbed. He took a bite of the synthetic meat, which was a little too hot for him. Spice-wise, anyway. It had gone a bit cold.

 

“Won’t happen to me,” he said, shaking his head. 

 

“Tell that to the captain,” Abhi muttered, looking back down at his food.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Before he could answer, however, a messenger lizard appeared.

 

“Petty Officer Sharp, the Captain wishes to see you.”

 

Both Jaspert and Rupert blanched.

 

“Right.” Jaspert got to his feet, gave the boffins a little salute. “Have a lovely evening.”

 

Rupert was staring at him with wide eyes. “Good luck.”

 

“I’ll need it,” he sighed.

 

He really would.


End file.
